Yesterday the heavens parted, a giant ray of light illuminated my sister’s basement, and out fell a couch. A very large couch. I was hoping it might land on the people who sold it to me, and I’d watch the pointy boots on their feet shrivel up beneath the ottoman. And then my nephews would cheer and clink their giant lollipops with joy!
I told you it was huge. In fact, I think I once lived in an apartment half this size.
I’ve written about what a nightmare this couch has been, at least in terms of getting it made and delivered. And then the date that they promised me it would arrive got pushed back again. Ahem.
Now, I’m horrible with confrontation. I do not like to engage in disagreements, even if they happen to be civil. So when they called to tell me that the date had been pushed back, I said, okay. Fine. And then I had my assistant, someone who delights in confrontation call them back for me. I had to leave the house when he did this so that I wouldn’t even hear the conversation, otherwise I would break out in hives.
But! I hear it was glorious and magical. Triumphant, even. They wouldn’t give me the couch for free (drats!), but my assistant talked them into a fifteen percent discount. I’ll take it.
Three days later they called me back to schedule a delivery day and time, and that’s when they brought up my assistant. He was very angry, they said. He was insistent, they said. Aggressive, even. Well, why do you think I hired him?
My sister and her family have always lived with inherited furniture, and this is one of the first new pieces they’ve ever had in their house. My brother-in-law understood their excitement and told his boys they could celebrate as boys do. But only once.
And then they were told to act civilized. Remember, kids, some people live in houses smaller than this couch.
More than anything we are all relieved that we can move on with this project. We can accessorize, move in some smaller pieces, and by football season this will be the place to spend the day.